


Daddy Seph

by Skeren



Category: Final Fantasy VII, Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abandonment, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Intersex, Kid Fic, Minor Character Death, Multi, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-18 22:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5945407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A universe where things went differently, and the Remnants were actually Sephiroth's children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash

**Author's Note:**

> This was a series of stories I and a friend came up with back in 2006 and early 2007. 
> 
> There is a lot more to it than is posted here, and it might turn into a series instead of a lone compilation at some point as I go through my files. Alternately, I might add more chapters here of previously unposted material, which might cause some numbering shuffling. We did, after all, plan over 30 years into this storyline. We just never _wrote_ most of it before we fell out of touch, unfortunately. What's posted here is what I can locate of what we finished together.

The general had been extremely skeptical over Zack's incessant wheedling, and almost childish begging, he had tried to convince him to buy into his current scheme. He hadn't given a direct answer, amused at the younger man's vibrant begging, and had almost laughed outright when the exasperated second in command grabbed his wrist and pulled him along to where he wanted to go. He'd muttered the entire time about Sephiroth's bullheaded stubbornness, adding in a few vulgarities and pointedly glaring ahead, though it was all in play. Cloud shook his head when the two departed, promising not to let anything blow up in their absence before settling back with the group of crates turned impromptu chair and table set, starting up another game of solitaire.

"So, care to inform me why you want to go mountain climbing?" He murmured conversationally, stopping at the beginning of the trail and tilting his head back a little to take in the giant mass of rock. Zack grinned and stretched out a little, almost wriggling in place, rather like an impatient child whose mother had promised him candy for behaving in the store.

"Because, Gen, I think it'd be nice to get some fresh air, get away from the battlefields... do something other than wait and sharpen swords. Besides that, might as well enjoy nature while we can, since once we head back to Midgar there'll be no trees for miles." Zack kept babbling, and Sephiroth found himself tuning the man out, following a few steps behind him as they began to ascend the glorified rock heap, the general's eyes flicking between the path ahead and the artistic graffiti scrawled on the brown and gray stone face. Honestly, it didn't seem like that futile of an excursion, and it did sound quite nice...

However, that didn't mean he would admit it to his second. "And if we're questioned on why we were gone for an hour? Do we tell everyone we were meandering about the mountains because curiosity tempted you?" Zack made an indignant sound, turning sharply on his heel, fixing the general with a reprimanding, almost pouting look. He crossed his arms over his chest, walking backward gracefully, closing his eyes and nodding in a matter of fact manner.

"Then, my dear General Sephiroth, we tell your soldiers that your esteemed self and your second in command took it upon themselves to scour ahead in the vast mountain ranges near our recent battlefield in order to make sure that no guerrillas remained hiding up in the lofty vastness. And, as thus, prove to be pests later should they decide to come attack as peace negations move forward." Sephiroth resisted the urge to snort at the man, shaking his head minutely as Zack's serious face split into his usual mischievous bemusement. "Besides, it really is a great view..." With that, Zack turned on his heel, pointedly increasing the natural switch and sway of his hips for the next few steps, highlighting the asset he was particularly proud of.

"What? Your derriere?" He did his best to sound rather bored, killing the smirk on his lips and watching Zack almost objectively. Zack turned on his heel again and eyed his lover with an almost malicious edge.

"It'd better be a nice view, or you ain't going to see it for a while." He raised an eyebrow, doing his best to look a mixture of annoyed and foreboding, turning sharply on his heel to start forward for a few rapid steps. However, the dirt of the mountain path decided that it didn't enjoy this sort of treatment and slid out from under Zack's feet, sending him off balance. Sephiroth's arm snapped out with catlike quickness and grace, grabbing the nearest flesh to right him, eliciting a yelp from his second. "You pervert!" The black haired man rubbed the abused muscle, meeting the silver haired man's smirk with one of his own.

"Well, Zack, if I had grabbed your leg it would have sent you completely off balance, and no other area was readily available." Sephiroth managed in a completely deadpan voice, quirking an eyebrow as if daring the younger to question him. Zack snorted.

"Yeah, right, you just wanted to cop a feel."

"Perhaps that as well." Sephiroth rolled his shoulders slightly, moving so that he was beside Zack on the wider part of the path, the black haired man brushing a hand over his as they trailed higher up. Zack hummed a soft war jaunt as he pulled ahead of his lover, turning to continue higher when Sephiroth stopped. The general peered out over the view, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword contentedly as he surveyed the land he had seen far too much of in such a negative light. He quietly appreciated how peaceful it could be, almost content to lose himself in his musings.

However, Zack cut into his thoughts and the man sounded quite perturbed. "Sephiroth! C'mere..." The man was crouched, watching a thick scrub bush with intense concentration. "Something moved." Sephiroth felt his eyebrows creeping higher on his brow and came to stand next to his paranoid second skeptically, watching the noted area of offense intently.

"Animals do dwell on mountains, Zack." The younger gave an almost rude noise, shaking his head, beginning to slowly creep towards his target, one hand hovering over a small knife kept for practical field usage just in case he was about to put himself into a bad situation.

"I know that. Don't care. I saw somethin' and it wasn't like any animal I've ever seen... it was white. White-silver." His murmur dropped to silence when he approached the bush, carefully miming going past it, before suddenly stabbing his hand in and dragging something out.

Something small and child shaped, with a crop of silver-white hair. The little form shrieked at being expelled from his hiding place, thrashing violently in the SOLDIER's grip, even as Zack stared down at it in shock. "What the-"

"Put my brother down you bastard!" A larger figure than the one that was currently attempting to chew off Zack's arm lunged, laying siege to his legs, pounding little fists into the muscle and trying to find meshes of nerve and bone in order to get his point across. Zack did his best to hop back on one foot and kick the child away with the other, not wanting to bring harm to something so small when he didn't have to. He already hated the child casualties that had already occurred in the past few weeks of skirmish and kamikaze attack.

Sephiroth's eyes narrowed and he followed fluidly, intent on grabbing the larger offender, reaching out a hand to snag the child by the particular curl of his hair, when his hand was intercepted, clamped down on by a very firm jaw as a little body wound itself around his arm. The newest child sunk his teeth into the leather-gloved hand as viciously as he could, completely intent on keeping the general away from his cohorts even as Sephiroth tried to find a good angle to apply pressure to the little one's jaw.

The unexpected battle lasted only a few seconds before Zack managed to knock the free attacker onto his back, making the boy yelp as his head connected with dirt below them. The kid didn't stay down long though, quickly scrambling to his knees, freezing suddenly when he saw Sephiroth, jaw dropping before emitting an awestruck squeak. "Daddy?!"

Time seemed to freeze at about that point. The one in Zack's hands stilled, holding onto the man's wrist tightly so he wasn't being inadvertently hung, the one with fangs sunk into Sephiroth's knuckles looking between his look-alikes uncertainly. Sephiroth met Zack's eyes, the lesser ranking SOLDIER watching the general in bemused horror, shocked look going into pure mischievous amusement. "And here I thought you didn't sow wild seeds, sir..."

"I don't." He snapped in turn, eyeing his lover in a bit of annoyance at his character being questioned, before turning his considerations to the children, looking from one pale-haired sibling to the next, a small stone settling in the pit of his stomach.

"Give me one way in Hades they ain't yours." The three were looking from man to man, the littlest one kicking his feet a little to illustrate his discomfort, scampering over to the largest brother so that he could hide and appraise his claimed father. The serpent released his grip, sliding off of his father's arm as he joined the smallest brother, hugging him reassuringly. The largest brother seemed to puff himself out, trying to shield the littler two.

Sephiroth had no good answer, choosing to ignore Zack for a moment as he focused on the boys, staring intensely at the eldest, who did his best not to quiver under the odd gaze. However, the silver-haired man found himself noting the boys had eyes like his... "Who told you I was your father?"

"My mama did." The eldest answered, apparently elected group speaker for no reason other than he had been the one to get them drawn under such intense scrutiny. "I met you once in the hospital, but you were sleeping. Mama said you didn't feel well." Sephiroth frowned slightly, staring at the speaking child, watching him do his best not to cower.

"When was that?"

"Two years ago, an' then mama had the twins..." The little boy shifted uncomfortably, gesturing back to his brothers as they bunched closer to him, looking unhappily from elder to elder. Zack smiled warmly, glancing at Sephiroth, nodding a little.

"I think this needs some further explanation. We won't hurt you kids... come with us back to our camp. I know where Cloud stashes his candy." The hiding pair regarded their brother, nodding with him as he gave a barely perceptible nod, keeping his relations close as Zack pulled past them to lead the way back down the mountain. The children went on his heels, and Sephiroth stood as if stunned, watching the funeral procession in progress. Zack turned his head, resting his hands on his hips. "Coming, general?" 

Sephiroth gave an almost bittersweet sigh, following behind his supposed spawn, ignoring the confused looks from the little ones. "Just enjoying the view."

* * *

Sometimes, Cloud got these feelings. Gut feelings. Instincts that told him to get out while he still could. Most of the time, the blond ignored them, deciding to hope for the best and smile his way through it.

When the tent flap parted, revealing a manic Zack, Cloud wasn't surprised. He was sure the man was insane, and secretly he wondered if he would end up like that after enough years. However, when Zack's heels were followed by _miniature_ versions of Sephiroth rather than the general himself, Cloud began having a feeling...

It said get out while he still could.

Cloud had a horrible sense of curiosity though. "...uh, what the hell?" Sephiroth gave a long-suffering sigh and Zack grinned as he shrugged, rearranging the layout of the sparse accommodations in order to properly seat their enlarged party.

"We don't know either, Spike, but we're gonna find out. So kids, what are your names?"


	2. Dominance

The animosity in the air was enough to make lesser men choke and die.

Rufus glowered at his father, lips quirked down in the slightest resemblance of a frown, arms folded over his chest in annoyance. His father met his gaze in a level way, fingers bridged and elbows rested on his desk, almost perched on the edge of his chair as he suppressed a smirk at his victory in the heated verbal confrontation his son had been foolish enough to engage him in. “I’m sorry, Rufus, but I don’t think that proposal would be beneficial to the company.” The younger blond suppressed an urge to roll his eyes. It hadn’t been a matter of beneficial or not; he had tried to offer something better than whatever idiotic plan his father had in place and the old man didn’t like his supreme authority challenged.

“If you say so.” He murmured something like an apology for his presumptiveness, arms still folded over his chest as he searched for a transition of subject, relieved when he spotted the mini-bar. He rose in a fluid motion and strode over to the black varnished wooden piece. He knelt and removed shot glasses from the cabinets, fully concentrated on his self-appointed task and pointedly ignoring of his father’s smug and curious look. He used his fingers as guides when he poured the preferred amber liquid into each glass, attention concentrated as he added three ice cubes to each drink, each part in turn procured from the small refrigerator contained behind a cabinet door.

He returned to the desk and offered his father one of the glasses, motion paused as he waited for the man to accept the glass. He sat and pulled the chair closer towards the desk, as if he wasn’t displeased about being denied. The president lifted his glass and tapped his glass to Rufus’ as if a toast would smooth things over between them between clashed tempers and flared displeasure. They shared a long moment of silence, Rufus’ eyes averted and focused on a spot above his father’s head, his father’s eyes focused and intent on his son’s face.

“You know, Rufus…” The old man broke the ice first, his glass set down half drained, small beads of sweat collected on the glass’ surface. “One day, someone will actually listen to you. You’ll have weight in the company.” Rufus’ pride flared, but he managed to keep his eyes lidded and his gaze calm, focused in on his father now.

“Whatever draws that revelation out of you?” He almost hummed, an amused smirk painted across his lips in a show of good humor, as if this was just a gentle taunt between two companions, rather than the vicious insult it was meant to be. Rufus really did hate it when the bastard decided to assert his dominance in their situation. He always did his damnedest to show Rufus his place, even if the younger blond ignored the man as much as he could, even if the barbs did dig in and set his blood into a heated boil every time the man spoke.

“You’ll be president some day. Or maybe your child will.” He just had to add that little possibility of his own expectation to live forever or close to it, voice smug as he continued, more of the whiskey gone to his gullet with each rasped breath. “Either way, there’s a chance someone will hear you someday. Don’t stop thinking in the meantime.” Rufus bit his lip to keep down a nasty remark, the visible mindless nod he offered completely forced as his fingers tightened in the fabric of his pants. His pride wouldn’t allow for him to thank his sire for the advice, so they sunk into another long silence until both of their glasses were empty other than amber remnants and melted ice.

The president withdrew a pocket watch and checked it, his brow furrowed when he noticed the time. “And I’m losing my time to complete more important matters.” Rufus stood and extended his hand in a display of mutual feeling, something between admiration and an attempt at a recovery of lost pride. The president smirked and took the younger’s hand, digits clasped tight enough to leave white imprints on his son’s hand. “Don’t fall behind on your current tasks, Rufus, I’ll see you soon.” The CEO started to pull away, but his son didn’t let go. “I believed I dismissed you, R-”

The man’s eyes widened at that moment, something strong and painful forced into him, originating at where his palm was still clasped to Rufus’. The elder Shinra gasped and found himself on the short side of oxygen intake, frantic as he tried to drag in air that wouldn’t come, one hand pressed hard at his chest as his heart tried to pound in between what felt like rapid spasms, hard contractions that refused to relax. Rufus went to the mini-bar and returned to the desk, the bottle of whiskey in hand as he settled down on his chair again. He smacked his parent’s hand when it went for the intercom. A simple flick of the younger’s hand sent the system to the edge of the desk, far out of the pained man’s reach. “First of all, you old bastard, my name doesn’t have to be on your tongue every time you address me.”

The president sputtered, the noise sick and wet as it dripped from his lips, dull blue eyes focused in complete horror as his son poured himself another drink and sipped at it. “Second of all, no man lives forever and every king, whether his rule was good or corrupt, must eventually topple.” The younger blond swirled his glass so that the ice cubes would clink against the sides and drown out the noises of asphyxiation his father seemed so keen on the production of. “And my final two points for our evening, father dear, our _last_ evening together…” He stood and set his glass down with an audible ‘thunk‘, the actions of his fingers pointed as he held out his hand and turned the silver band on the ring finger to reveal a good sized green globe, his other hand quick to remove the bolt materia.

“People are going to listen to me quite often due to your tragic heart attack…and rot in whatever may serve as hell these days, you conniving, lecherous bastard.” Rufus replaced the bolt with a cure, the other materia tucked away in his pocket as he remained on his feet, stone-faced as he watched his father’s life tick away into mere minutes. When the old man was a miserable mass of agonized flesh, the blond turned and knocked over his chair. He sauntered with ease towards the door, his head turned ever so slightly to watch his father’s last few moments of pain, before he reached up and ruffled his own hair. “And if there’s one thing I can thank you for, it’s for teaching me how to put on such fabulous airs.” He smirked coolly, act firmly settling into place as he ran to the door, his call for help to the secretary falling on deaf ears as the president’s heart gave out, his body slumped back into his chair as gravity dragged him downwards towards the floor.

* * *

Rufus played such a good and mournful son in the days that followed. His eulogy left a crowd of fakes and false admirers in tears, and it was with such a very heavy heart that he continued business in the Shinra company, adamant that things continued on as usual. After all, it's what his father would have wanted. Jonathan Shinra would have been absolutely enraged and disappointed if Shinra Inc. allowed itself to falter under tragedy, and Rufus made such lovely promises about his acceptance of the familial torch and the insurance of a strong economy even in the wake of such traumatizing events.

Vincent couldn’t help but snort as he slid up behind Rufus, one arm curled around the blond’s waist in the same instant he leaned back into the touch. “You always did say you hated dominance.”

“Only when I wasn’t the one showing it.” Rufus turned, eyes fixated on his taller lover as he leaned up for a kiss, fingers instinctively curled into his hair the moment the opportunity was presented. The black haired man deepened the kiss, content as he explored his lover’s mouth again, clawed hand pressed firm to his lower back. The younger man pulled away first when he found his need for oxygen was greater than that of the former Turk’s, still sure to keep close and pressed to the older. “Oh, and Vincent…” The red-eyed man made a noise of question as he traced fingers over Rufus’ jaw.

The younger leaned up ever so slightly and pressed his lips to the older’s ear. “Thank you for the gift.”


	3. Departing

"Gen, it’s only for a few months." Zack gave an exasperated sigh, packing his spare uniforms first, before throwing in basic toiletries and adding in his standard materia. He kept the higher, mastered globes on his body. "Besides, it’s not like it’s even an active lab. It’s a holding and storage facility." Sephiroth shook his head slightly, watching the black haired man almost impassively as the younger SOLDIER began to check his sword over, readying the sheath with his free hand before strapping it on.

"You should still be careful." He kept his tone quiet, eyes narrowing at the amused eye roll his subordinate gave him at the warning. He resisted the urge to cuff his lover upside the head. "A laboratory actively used by Hojo or not, it is still a place where he tucks away things of future interest. One where completed or failed projects are stored to be picked up at later dates." Zack paused, sheathing his sword before making his way over to the general, winding his arms around him and hugging him close, head turned to nuzzle into his shoulder a little.

"Hey, first class SOLDIER here, specially trained by one Silver General himself." He smiled gently, pushing up on his tiptoes to rest his chin against the silver-haired man’s shoulder, closing his eyes as arms were wound around him in turn. "I’ll take care of myself. I’m always planning on coming home." The general tugged the younger man close, pressing their lips together in a minute touch, a light hand running up the man’s back.

"I would hope so." Zack made no move to pull away, so Sephiroth was content to remain close, expressing himself far better in that intimate touch than any great oration could. 

Cloud would have told them that Zack was going to miss his boat and be late for the start of his duty, but he couldn’t find it in himself to interrupt them, arms folded over his chest as he watched them brace for being separated from one another. He closed his eyes and slipped out of the doorway as they said their final reaffirmations, combining ‘see you soon’ with ‘it’s only a couple of months’, and the blond couldn’t help but grin a little bit. You didn’t say goodbye in a line of work like they had, because that meant you were at peace with whatever would happen next. 

He would have gone into greater detail while he waited, but Zack came out of the room with his belongings in hand, lightly smacking the back of Cloud’s head as he passed him. "Why didn’t you tell me I was gonna be late?"

"For the fun of it?" He lifted his eyebrows innocently, waving a little at Sephiroth and receiving a calm nod in turn before following the older SOLDIER with a mischievous air in his smile. He listened to the older grumble and gripe as the engine turned over, then settled in for the long ride to the docks


	4. Expectations

The name 'Sephiroth' brought up a myriad of pictures and emotions among various people. SOLDIERs thought of their leader and the stony ferocity he displayed during the wars in Wutai, blade cutting through guerilla forces as if they were nothing more than paper. The upper class of Shinra's political elite never forgot the emotionless beast that stood next to the President, statuesque in all of his terrifying glory. The common people remembered him at the President's right hand, proud and wonderful with lines of SOLDIERs behind him, all standing as the President lavished them with praise and adoration for their struggles and victories in Wutai.

However, Cloud Strife wasn't sure he was going to be able to get the image of the man vacuuming out of his mind ever again.


	5. Surprises

Zack had been expecting fantastically horrendous things in the belly of one of the insane doctor’s labs. He had expected monsters; he had expected people that were halfway contorted into something barely recognizable. He had expected nothing vaguely human, absolutely nothing that he could sympathize with, or that he would even want to get to know.

He had wanted his job to be as easy and as detached as possible.

But when three pairs of eyes that looked just like his General’s peered at him from the sterile bright of separate observation rooms, he knew that not giving a damn would be impossible. He managed to keep a surprised expression off of his face as he followed the doctor studiously. He listened to the bastard detail his duty for the next few months of service, nodding and giving affirmatives when needed, but not really paying attention.

“You’ll be responsible for their feeding and making sure that they’re ready for weekly exams…” He ignored the doctor, eyes flitting from face to face. Zack found himself resisting the urge to cringe, remembering those three little faces… and plainly seeing the hope, confusion, and betrayal etched in each expression. The man wondered if Hojo had assigned him to this particular children due to ignorance on the black haired man’s involvement with the doctor’s prize creation. Another part of the SOLDIER’s mind echoed that Hojo probably knew quite well who Zack was to Sephiroth, so putting him in charge of the man’s children…

…well, it couldn’t be much of anything other than a fantastic jab in the ribs, accompanied by a cool smirk and a wonder of if he would do anything to help them. He took a deep breath, murmuring an ‘understood, sir’ in response to a question of comprehension, moving on with the doctor.


	6. Hard Questions

“When can we go home?”

Loz loved to ask the hard questions. Zack shrugged a little, holding out a fresh change of lab clothes to the boy, resisting the need to frown at seeing a line of needle marks trailing up each arm. The boy took the shirt and tugged it on, watching the adult with questioning eyes, refusing to let the elder go without a satisfactory explanation. Zack sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “How’d you get here in the first place?”

It was Loz’s turn to shrug. “Mama said we we’re going to stay here.” Zack paused, looking up to make sure that there were no other SOLDIERs about, gesturing for the boy to follow him out of the pristine white cell. Loz blinked, trotting after the adult, his confusion growing when Zack got into Yazoo’s chamber (out of turn), and beckoned the boy out, gathering all three over in Kadaj’s cell. The children immediately clumped together, having not touched each other in at least two months, the crying due to said situation long since gone due to harsh words and the occasional strike.

“Why would she say that?” It was Loz’s turn to shrug. He tucked his face against Yazoo’s neck, hugging his brothers as close as he could. Zack turned away, leaving the cell to give them a moment of privacy, and to retrieve their evening meals. The boys set into the food rather carefully, refusing to disentangle for anything. They wanted the comfort for as long as they could have it.

“She said some things about daddy being mad and this being a safe place.” Zack managed to keep back his scoff at that, watching the children quietly. They reminded him so much of their father during those first few months of knowing each other that it made his heart twist, a knife of unease firmly buried in his gut. They were so desperate for touch, yet so afraid of the foreign territory… “So I guess we’re staying here until mama comes to get us.” The words were bitter. Zack never liked to hear that tone out of a little one.

“Your daddy was in a fine mood when I left him last.” Loz blinked at that, and Kadaj tipped his head, tugging his brothers over so that they climbed into the black haired man’s lap, tucking close to hear him better. “I don’t think he’s mad. Not at you guys. It just startled him when he met you.” He soothed, stroking soft silver hair, smiling as Yazoo rubbed into the touch and almost purred. “I don’t think he’d mind you guys coming to stay with him instead of you guys staying here.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”


	7. Going

Yazoo tucked against Loz, and Kadaj snuggled against Yazoo. Loz himself was pressed against Zack, using the man for a large pillow, declaring him the body pillow for the duration of the ride.

Zack decided he liked the feel of silver hair. It tended to be very smooth and very soft, even though Loz’s was a little coarser than his brothers’, no matter the resemblance to duck fluff. The taxi driver was silent as it carried him inland, back towards the land where things didn’t grow due to years of abuse and the earth just being far too tired to give any more to man than she already had given. He sent a silent prayer to whatever gods there may have been in the area, hoping Sephiroth was more than willing to change his game strategy to include the new pieces he was introducing to the board.


	8. Impossibilities

He found solace on the balcony on the nights that sleep didn’t come easily. The chill night air felt nice on his bare torso, and he settled on the railing, arms curled around his lower body as he watched the fogged night sky. There had always been something that inspired a calm effect in him when it came to open air and the drape of darkness over the sky, even if the stars near Midgar were nowhere near as bright as the ones that hung above Wutai or even out further away from the reaches of the city. Something soothed away the worries he found nested on his shoulders when he sat back and let his fears be lost in idle contemplation of anything that wanted to pass over his mind.

He splayed all of his fingers over the round swell that stuck out rather sharply in comparison to the rest of his lean body, head tilted down to examine his belly and all the connotations that came with the existence of such a state. He stroked over the skin, eyelids drooped as he focused. He rested a hand underneath his stomach as if he needed to support the area, with it's additional weight and out of place jut so apparently foreign to the young man.

He didn’t quite understand why or how, and the most plausible answer knotted in his throat whenever he started to project it for a hint of explanation. Every doctor he had been to before, upon discovery of his oddity, had sworn up and down and three ways to Sunday that those particular aspects of his anatomy were barren, that he would never have to deal with thoughts of being pregnant and stay up until three making grand plans on how to nurture a life he hadn’t been built to house in the first place. It had never been a worry that Yazoo had ever had to entertain, that was, not until he and his brothers were removed from their home by the Doctor that had molded their father…

The man had done strange things to all three of them. One prick of a needle blurred into the sting of the next, and watching the slow descent of strange liquids hooked into the veins in their arms had become a horrifying hobby to pass time when the hours merged together, until their parents had come in a raging blaze of retribution and safe haven. The alterations had been done by then, and Yazoo could distinctly remember the Doctor laying him back and the dual stings near the bumps of his pelvic bones, something stirring and giving off a brief ache before subsiding. He had actually forgotten about what the man had done in the confusion that blanketed the days after, in between Loz’s fear of touch and the sickeningly calm rage that settled over their parents, the three waiting for Vincent to arrive and mind house for a few days while they disappeared, somber on the way out and the way back.

Yazoo hadn’t known what they had done at the time, but something told him that the Doctor would never try and finish what he had begun. He was correct, but at the time Yazoo didn’t have a perfect grasp on the adult concept of death, so he had accepted his father’s simple assurance that the man would never return for him or his brothers and went on with life. He shook his head then, a shift feeling in his belly drawing him out of his memories, and he blinked his eyes back into focus, stroking gentle fingers over his swell. He took a deep breath, a small shudder clawing down his spine as he found himself wondering exactly how he was going to pull off something his natural biology wasn’t meant for.

He jumped when a hand slid over his shoulder, an arm quickly coiled around his chest and a kiss pressed to his ear, Reno’s voice a low rumble clogged with sleep and amusement. “What’re you doin’ up, babe?” The silver-haired man gave a little sigh, resting his head against his lover’s chest, one hand snagging into the red ponytail and stroking through it almost restlessly, not answering him for a long moment. Reno made a soft, curious noise, reaching down with his free hand to stroke the bump and hopefully generate an answer, chin resting on Yazoo’s head.

“I’m worried.” He huffed finally, all eloquence gone as he voiced the issue that plagued him now, Reno’s murmur quiet as the man pressed a kiss to his temple. “What if I can’t? What if something goes wrong? What…” He sighed tiredly, and Reno grabbed his shoulders lightly as he turned him in place, lips firm against his to cut off the questions. Yazoo closed his eyes and went limp against his beloved, head nestled in the man’s shoulder as careful hands stroked over his hair, fingers waging war on the snags from his earlier attempt at sleep.

“Don’t let it eat ya, babe. Things’ll be fine, you’ll see, and then you’ll feel like a moron for wasting sleep over ‘m.” The Turk gave a wide grin fogged with tired, arms curled above the area that designated where their child settled, taking a step back to haul Yazoo off the rail. “Bed.” He murmured, sneaking another kiss. Twining his fingers with his lover’s, he lead him back inside their apartment and made sure he settled before claiming his own side of the bed, arm still firmly twined around the younger’s chest. Yazoo turned to watch Reno sleep before sliding as close as he could because he felt cold even with the blankets. He tucked his chin against Reno’s shoulder again, staring at the wall beyond the man.

There was a part of him that doubted Reno’s optimism, but there was also the other part that desperately wanted to believe it and smile with it, rolling with the waves as they came, one hand tightening on where it held onto his swollen abdomen. However, the redhead was right in some strange, almost unconcerned way. Nothing was going to change if he sat up all night and fretted over why and how and what was to come, drowning himself in speculation and heartache. He gave a sigh, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Reno’s neck, deciding to let sleep come with one last wistful blend of ‘how?’ and ‘why?’ and maybe even a tentative thank you to whatever deity or higher power must have found it hilarious to play with the mortals the way it did.


	9. Cross Communication

"Kadaj!" He cut across the frantic babbling, tone level but sharp, and was glad when his son snapped into silence. "Now then, again, slowly and in simple terms."

There was another long moment of quiet, and the sound of a deep breath from the other end of the phone line. When the talking resumed, it was nearly a whisper. He sounded distinctly traumatized. "Dad... Yuffie's pregnant."

This time, the silence was from his end of the phone line and he gave the thing a dubious look as though it might have misinformed him. "Repeat that please."

The words were quicker this time, as well as louder. "Yuffie's pregnant. I'm not sure how it happened, okay I am sure but we were really careful about making sure that we didn't, y'know, not use things, because she was really set on not being a parent yet and now she's pregnant and I really don't know what to do so help?!"

Okay. He hadn't misheard then. "Kadaj. You've talked to her about this?"

Another silence. "Yes."

"Is she mad?"

"...no."

"Is she still stealing things?"

He could hear the confusion this time. "Yes."

"Marry her so she doesn't run off with your baby later, okay?"

Confusion gone. "Okay dad. I can call you back if I need to talk about anything right?"

"Yes. Whenever you need to. See you soon, okay?"

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"We're not on the same continent."

"I know. I'll come to you."

There was a pause. "Okay dad. Cell phone?"

"Yes."

"Love you dad."

"I know, love you too Kadaj, I'll likely be there by tomorrow night."

"Dad?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"No thanks needed." He set the phone back in its cradle when he heard the click on the other end of the line, then went looking for Zack. He'd need to let the man know he'd be out of the city for a while.


	10. Night Blessings

He'd been gone a few months, enough time to determine that all really was going to be well and that he honestly, truly, did not need to stay in close attendance. Not that Kadaj wasn't appreciative, but he was certain he could take care of the rest. If he couldn't, then he would call, and they both knew he'd come right back, not that he'd be in time more than likely, but there was no help for that.

It was a parent thing, and Kadaj was very soon to experience it himself, so he saw no reason not to begrudge his son keeping the arrival to himself.

Shaking his head while thinking about the odd mix of questions, affection, and 'get out now' attention that had followed him out the door he'd been waved out across the ocean, he took off his coat and hung it on the hook, not wanting to make too much noise since it was decently late in the evening.

The others were likely asleep. Or, at least, he had expected them to be... Instead, he heard soft humming off in the direction where the boys used to have their rooms before they moved out, and he found himself wandering that way instead of to the bedroom, his hand pushing in the door to peer inside. Cloud, it was Cloud humming.

The man turned to look at him, apparently having heard him, and he wasn't sure what was more surprising, the soft smile, or the infant in his arms. Usually, Cloud's smiles weren't like that, and he certainly hadn't seen that baby before.

"Hey Seph. You're home. Welcome back." The words were quiet, and the man headed straight for him, handing him the baby once his curious look was noticed. "I guess I'm the first one to see you aren't I?"

As Cloud settled the child in his hold, he took at good look at it. "You are. I can't truly say this was quite what I expected on arrival though." The tone was soft, since he didn't want to startle the baby back awake from the doze it seemed to have settled into once transferred from one man to another.

"We would have said something but... Aeris wanted him to be a surprise, and you were focused on helping Kadaj with getting your first grandchild into the world so... What was the baby?"

He blinked, looking to the blond that had cozied up against his side, blue eyes glancing from the child, apparently a boy, back to him every few moments. "It hasn't been born just yet, but it's due soon. Kadaj said they didn't need me to stay all the way up the birth and as good as pushed me out the door." Shaking his head slightly, he looked down at the baby boy. "Who exactly would this little one be Cloud?"

Glancing sideways revealed the soft loving smile on the man's face. "We named him Sora. He's yours you know. Well, not in the biological sense but, well, we made him for you." Cloud glanced up to meet his eyes, pausing in his almost nervous statements. "It was Zack's idea you know, and I'm pretty sure it was a joke but... he had a point. You are happier with kids around so... we made you one. Do you like him?"

He flit his gaze down to the child that had dozed off in his hold, then back to Cloud. "Yes... yes I do." He brushed his fingers over the child's cheek, then moved that hand to tangle at Cloud's nape so he could give the man a long kiss, and he rested their foreheads together as he pulled back from it. "Thank you."

The blue eyes were both happy and relieved, so his smile ended up completely genuine. "You're welcome."

There was a moment of quiet.

"Zack and Aeris are going to be so jealous they weren't up when you first saw him."


End file.
